


The Stone Angel

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, Weeping Angel AU, doctor who - Freeform, weeping angel - Freeform, weeping angel!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:01:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were many strange stories from the days on. The stories of the man, the strange man, who fell in love with an angel from the park.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The cool night air hung frozen in the silent skies, yet the cold still pricked sharply against his skin. Dean pulled his leather jacket closer around his neck, shivering as the late winter snow fell gracefully around him. Spring had already begun, a few buds peaking to life on the tree branches, the latest snow melted and exposed the grass, only to be covered once again by the flakes hovering around his face.

He stopped his trek home for a moment when he came to the park. It was the park he had always played at when he was a young child, all those years ago. The place where he would take little Sammy to and introduce him to his friends from high school. But to Dean Winchester, what was most peculiar and special about this one memory-filled park, was what most of the children ignored. Just near the edge of the small wood where the playground ended and the nature began, was an angel. Not a real angel, of course, but this strange, out of place stone statue. Dean didn't know whether it was his extraordinary imagination or not, but sometimes the angel would be there, other days, not. It was only missing when he was merely passing by, not having the time to play at that moment, only casually taking a glance at the trees. Other than those days, he felt like the angel was watching, yes, watching, him. Dean felt that he should be at least slightly creeped out by this fact, but... there were no words for how opposite the truth was. He felt safe, protected, by this angel. As his mother always told him before she died: "Angels are watching over you." Of course, this was all just a fantasy of his childhood. He didn't really believe in all of that sort of stuff, of religion, unlike his younger brother. No, it wasn't his thing. But still...

From where he stood at the fence, his angel was nowhere to be seen. Maybe it broke, stone isn't really that strong. Maybe it was taken down. Maybe too many children were being stupid and got injured trying to climb it. So many reasonable possibilities were arguing in his mind, but that didn't stop him from mindlessly drifting past the fence and sitting down on one of the creaky swings. He watched the woods, knowing in truth that the angel was gone, but a small, childish part of him still had faith. That was new for him. He looked away and to the ground to bring his jacket closer to him, absolutely freezing. He should be getting home right now, it was way too late for his little fairytales. He stood up, facing the exit, and started walking until he felt a tug on his collar. He froze, a breath caught in his throat when he heard a deep whisper in his right ear: "Dean..." Dean couldn't speak, petrified. He wanted to turn around and swing a fist into the face of whoever was trying to, what he assumed, harm him. Then again, no one who would want to assault him would know his name. "Please don't turn around," the voice said, a hint of fear behind the rough voice.  
"What... what do you want?"  
"Don't leave just yet."  
"Who the hell are you?" Dean just managed to get a glimpse of a hand on his shoulder. A stone hand lightly gripping his shoulder. He looked away, remembering that he was told not to look.  
"Your angel. Please allow me to explain, Dean."  
"How do you know who I am?"  
"How could I not? You are the one that protected me all these years. When the young children would vandalize my skin, you would be there to clean the foul language they wrote upon me. When they would threaten to inflict harm on my stone form, you would protect me. I have never been given the opportunity to thank you, with so many others would cause me to freeze. Now, put on your gloves."  
"Why do I have to-"  
"Because if I were to ever touch your skin, I would never forgive myself." Dean, still unsure but trusting enough, reached into his pant pockets where he had forgotten he left his gloves, and put them on. "Turn around, then close your eyes."  
"Why can't I see you?"  
"I would become quantum locked, and I would turn to stone." Even though he didn't understand, Dean didn't ask. He closed his eyes, and sure enough, he felt another hand slowly cupping his own. He expected next when he felt a pair of lips through the thin material of the gloves that they would be as hard as the rock he was used to seeing, but they were soft, gentle, unlike anything he imagined. "Thank you, Dean. And I must tell you, before you leave me tonight, that I never believed I would love a human as I do for you."  
"But... But I always thought you were-"  
"A statue, yes, it would seem. I am known as a Weeping Angel, a creature that turns to stone only when observed. A curse, I believe it is of our nature."  
"A Weeping Angel? But, you've always seemed so, so peaceful when I've seen you. You were never weeping." There was a silence, where the angel released Dean's hand.  
"Only when you weren't with me, Dean Winchester."


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

There were many stories from the days on, of the man, the strange man at the small park. He was there every single day. He was the strange man that mothers often warned their children to stay away from because they didn't understand- didn't understand the profound bond of the man and the angel. The man who would sit at the park bench by the angel, would always bring some novel and his thick rimmed reading glasses, and sit at just the right position where the angel could see every page, every word. The man who would stay until closing time, sometimes sleeping on the park bench. The man who would sometimes lean in and place his lips to the statue's when he believed no one was looking. 

The stories of the man who fell in love with an angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, i love the feedback, plus it gives me motivation for writing!

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, guys, I'll have you know I actually started CRYING while writing this.  
> Please leave a comment, I love the feedback, plus it gives me motivation for writing!


End file.
